


Shiner

by triforced



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Choking, General Hux Is Not A Nice Person, Hux is kinda messed up, Kylo Ren Has Issues, Kylo Ren is Not a Nice Person, M/M, Plot is sort of there if you squint, Smut, Very Dubious Consent, improper use of the force, please look at the tags guys, some violence, why do I always have to use these tags with these two
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-21
Updated: 2016-01-21
Packaged: 2018-05-15 06:30:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5775235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/triforced/pseuds/triforced
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kylo Ren makes a decision. He rises from the chair, crouches before the panting Hux, and yanks him up by his shiny, regulation belt buckle.</p>
<p>"Let's see how well you break, General."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shiner

When the light called, it did not feel like a caress. It did not feel gentle, it did not feel soft, it did not feel _safe_.

It felt dangerous. It felt seductive, like a drug, like the promise of something terrible and yet wonderful all at once. It felt like home.

\--

 

" _Break me_."

Hux stands before him, clad in the uniform he takes such care to keep presentable at all times- pressed, clean, neat. Boots shined. Hat atop perfectly coiffed hair. Greatcoat spotless, as if it has never been worn. (A stark contrast to his own singed black cape and cowl, his battle-scarred helmet.) A study of theoreticals, of textbook precision- which, in and of itself, Ren cannot fault him for- he is a student of history, as well, after all. One glance at the hilt and crossguard of his lightsaber is testament enough to that.

No, the problem with General Hux is his legitimacy.

Not of his pedigree. Broken stormtrooper training regimen (and it is broken, as the case of FN-2187 so pointedly proved) notwithstanding, the elder Hux did render valuable services to the old Imperial Academy, before fleeing to the Unknown Regions. A loyal family. Hux, Ren knows, feels his blood gives his lofty aspirations ground, and for whatever reason, his Master seems to encourage such ridiculous ideas.

General Hux is not a _warrior_.

Seated in a low-backed chair facing the entrance to his quarters, Ren crosses one black-clad leg over the other, his long arms draped almost lazily on the armrests. "Come on, then, come here, if you insist." He supposes he can drag Hux forward the few paces that separate them with the Force, but he'd much rather save the energy for something useful, something worthy of him. This stupid little game with Hux is only a worthless distraction.

"No."

 

\--

Kylo Ren was unfinished. Untested. Unbound. Oh, he studied the ways of the Force. He practiced his katas (not often enough), he immersed himself in dark side lore, pored over texts for hours on end, sometimes forgetting to sleep. When he constructed his lightsaber, he burned his hands, his fingers, his arms. Every day he felt conflict, light and dark roiling within him. But the dark side, the dark side, he believed, would be triumphant, _was_ triumphant.

Kylo Ren was unfinished.

When he destroyed the fledgling Jedi, it wasn't a test. When he blazed a trail of destruction at the head of the Knights of Ren, it wasn't a test. When he served as the hand of Supreme Leader Snoke on the battlefield, it wasn't a test.

Not yet.

\--

 

For a long moment, neither man does anything. Silence hangs in the air, thick enough to cut. Finally, Ren drums the fingers of one hand against the armrest, slowly. He keeps his expression impassive- without the mask, his face is on display. He has to be careful. Even so, he can feel cracks begin to form- a slight twitch of the eyebrow, the corner of the mouth.

"What did you say?" Delivered lightly, as if in afterthought. An arrogant smile spreads to the corner of Hux's mouth. He makes a show of examining his hands, tugs down the edge of one black glove- "I said no." -and then the other. "I do believe you heard me." Task complete, he stands at attention once more, both hands clasped behind his back, waiting for Ren to make his next move.

As if they are engaged in dejarik, and Hux, damnable Hux, called checkmate.

Ren's semblance of calm splinters. Quite suddenly, he wants to wipe that smile off Hux's coldly handsome face, wants to tear him down, bring him to his knees, see him beg and plead and cry, his pale, white skin gone red-

There is a sharp gasp, and Ren blinks. Without realizing it, he has leaned forward in the chair and reached out in Hux's direction, his hand curled in a choking gesture. The Force tears through him, none too gently, as it always does, into Hux, who claws at his throat but not with urgency, not with fear for his life, Ren can tell, can see it in his eyes, part of Hux is _enjoying_ this, even as his airflow continues to decrease and his white skin turns red, as tears form in his eyes, as he starts to sink to his knees. It is with both a growing sense of arousal and disgust that Ren releases him, and by then his suspicions about Hux are confirmed- the general sports a very obvious erection.

Pathetic. Utterly pathetic.

Kylo Ren makes a decision. He rises from the chair, crouches before the panting Hux, and yanks him up by his shiny, regulation belt buckle.

"Let's see how well you break, General."

 

\--

Kylo Ren threw away his past. He was no longer Ben Solo. That boy, that weak boy, died, was murdered, to serve a greater purpose (just as his uncle, Luke Skywalker, ought to have been murdered, on behalf of the Empire).

His mother, General Leia Organa Solo, meant nothing to him.

His father, Han Solo, meant nothing to him.

Kylo Ren threw away his past.

But.

Not entirely.

He still laid claim to his grandfather, a claim he would never, ever relinquish, under any circumstances.

He wouldn't let go of Darth Vader.

\--

 

Hux is very, very good at this. He knows how to use his teeth, his tongue, just so, knows when to pull off, when to swallow, when to lick, swirl, blow, bob. He learned quickly what Ren likes, and not merely because Ren has a hand knotted up in Hux's hair, roughly guiding his head.

Currently, Hux, still fully clothed in his pristine uniform (with the exception of his hat), occupies the chair that had been Ren's, while a likewise clothed Ren stands over him, his own head tossed back.

"How long have you wanted to do this to me, Hux?" The man gives a small moan, and Ren bends over at the waist, cups his hands almost tenderly about Hux's temples. His mouth brushes against the crown of Hux's head. "I can look, you know. Right now. I can look at everything. All of it. Inside here." To illustrate, he traces tiny circles on the soft flesh beneath his fingertips. Hux shudders, tries to pull his head away, but Ren tightens his grip, holds him down on his cock. "I didn't tell you to stop."

When Hux gazes up at him through his lashes, there is something calculating in his stare, something that Ren takes as a challenge. Through the haze of pleasure (Hux has thrown himself into his task with a newfound purpose), Ren calls upon the Force yet again, sends forth a probe-

_(want to put my dick in your gaping bleeding - want to piss on your - want to come in your - yes fuck me up my - hate you hate you hate you hateyouhateyouhateyou fuck me break me fuck me)_

-And immediately pulls a smirking Hux off of him. Ren has half a mind to grab Hux by the scruff of his neck and hurl him out of his quarters...hurl him off the _Finalizer_ , simply be rid of him and all he represents. Let that be the end of it. But the other half of him, the other half of him is already acting, has already pulled Hux up by the lapels of his greatcoat and is kissing him- not out of passion, but as a means to release tension, to give it someplace to go. Hux reciprocates, drags his newly bare hands through Ren's thick, dark hair, digs his nails into Ren's scalp. They bite at each other's lips, gnaw, tear, draw blood. Hux's nails come away red.

Ren has found his way back into the chair. Methodically, he removes Hux's belt, pops open the top button of his trousers, and tugs the zipper down. Hux watches him while he does this, his bloody lower lip caught between his teeth. Ren very nearly surges up to kiss him again, but thinks the better of it, and spins him around instead so that he's facing away from him. "Take off the coat."

"My, I thought you would never ask," Hux replies dryly, slipping out of the coat and folding it over his arm. After a quick scan of the room, he has the audacity to place it on Ren's bed. "A general with a wrinkled greatcoat? Think of the scandal, Ren-"

"It's as if you're _trying_ to make me angry now."

He'd followed and has Hux in a choke hold, his free hand down the front of the general's pants, toying with his erection. Hux bites back a moan. "So- so little control. You always have so little control. It's one of the many reasons I despise you."

The admission comes as such an unexpected little shock that Ren can't help but laugh helplessly, pressing his forehead against Hux's shoulder. What a fool. What a hopeless fool. "You've never been a warrior on a battlefield, _General_." Ren yanks down Hux's pants enough to expose his ass, slicks up two of his gloved fingers with his own spit, and shoves them in without preamble. Whatever words Hux had been about to fire back die on his lips, and he clutches at Ren's arm in a deathgrip. "One of the many reasons I despise you."

Hux's mouth moves, but all he manages to articulate is, "Fuck-"

Ren smiles (he has forgotten what his smile looks like; he cannot say if it is genuine or merely an approximation of a smile, nobody on this ship can), eases them both back on the chair. Hux is ready enough, he's decided, so he removes his fingers and abruptly replaces them with his cock, at which point Hux cries out (from pain and pleasure) and Ren moans at how tight he is.

The room is full of their harsh breathing.

Ren chooses to break the relative silence. With his arm still around Hux's neck, he draws him back, flush against his chest so that he can whisper in the other man's ear. "Fuck yourself on me."

Hux grabs Ren's thighs, hard- if he weren't wearing armored garments, the nails would've bitten into his skin. Every breath is labored, and Hux's movements are slow, measured, as he adjusts to the length and width of the cock inside of him. But he knows Ren's temperament, knows not to draw things out, and soon he's rolling his hips forward and back, moving them in circles, bobbing up and down, his head on Ren's shoulder, panting.

After a time, Ren, cursing his lack of control (damn you, Hux), can no longer remain a passive participant, thrusting up into Hux's ass, snaking a hand around to jerk him off.

This simple act does them both in.

"Ren- shit, I-" Hux cuts off with a shout, muffled in the crook of his arm. He comes- all over his uniform jacket, Ren notes with satisfaction- and, boneless, sags back against him. Ren follows soon after, biting down on Hux's neck as he does.

They sit that way until Ren has had his fill. Seconds. Minutes. Perhaps longer. He does not keep track. Later, when he recalls this incident, he will not frame it in those terms.

"Get out."

As if expecting such a command, Hux is already halfway out of his lap before he even speaks. To his credit, he tidies himself up (as much as he can, at least) with surprising speed and little fuss, saving the greatcoat for last, which he buttons over the mess of his uniform in dignified silence. As he walks toward the exit, he removes a handkerchief from the coat pocket and dabs at the blood on his lips.

He stops in the doorway.

"Ah, Ren, before I go," he says over his shoulder, one eyebrow raised sardonically, "I _have_ been on a battlefield before. And I'd say I break very well, wouldn't you?"

 

-

If anyone hears enraged howls coming from the vicinity of Lord Ren's private quarters that evening, they make note to keep well away. He is difficult enough to deal with when he isn't in one of his frightening moods.

 

\--

When the light called, it felt like

 

_"Anything."_

**Author's Note:**

> From Ren's perspective this time, oh yay! I refer to him as Ren because that's what the novelization does, and idk, I just feel weird calling him Kylo, I don't know why. I DON'T KNOW. *I'm* weird. 
> 
> ...I really like this pairing a lot. They are so horrible for each other though.


End file.
